


working days and sleeping nights

by ipreferaviators



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, Angst, Character Study, M/M, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 08:08:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2725064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ipreferaviators/pseuds/ipreferaviators
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So when the dust settles (and by "dust", Tony means "the remainder of SHIELD", and by "settles", Tony means "the military has stopped openly searching for that remainder and has begun quietly hunting down anyone who once operated under that particular banner (*snerk*)", Tony expects to have very little contact with Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	working days and sleeping nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hananobira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hananobira/gifts).



> For [Hananobira](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Hananobira/pseuds/Hananobira), though this is undoubtedly far more angsty and far less satisfying than what she wanted.
> 
> Title from "I Believe in You" by Don Williams.

So when the dust settles (and by "dust", Tony means "the remainder of SHIELD", and by "settles", Tony means "the military has stopped openly searching for that remainder and has begun quietly hunting down anyone who once operated under that particular banner (*snerk*)", Tony expects to have very little contact with Steve. There's the whole Bucky thing to consider, which by all reports ought to mean the return of Steve's long-lost love. There's also the alleged death of Fury, which, when combined with the events of the Invasion of New York (it totally gets capital letters, he almost DIED), means SHIELD is without much in the way of leadership. Hill is now on his payroll, and that's a hilarious turn of events. But Natasha is rogue, as far as the WSC is concerned. And it seems like where Natasha goes, so does Steve. And maybe Barton, despite him being undercover (and therefore unreachable, god SHIELD was stupid sometimes) when it all went down. Anyway, the last thing Tony expects when Jarvis informs him that someone is at the front door one night at 3 am is Steve standing outside the Tower, looking lost and angry and like someone just told him the Nazis actually won World War II. He thinks the word he's looking for is "defeated," but that's so much the wrong word to use when Captain America is involved that Tony can't even bring himself to think it. But yeah, there's Steve, and it's late, and all Tony can do is invite him in.

He gets Steve set up with one of the guest rooms (it was going to be Steve's floor, but no one has to know that) and goes back to bed. He ignored the niggling feeling in his gut that usually accompanies kidnappings, or threats to national security, or Pepper in a bad mood, and tries to sleep.

Over the next few days, Steve doesn't talk much. They see each other over coffee in the mornings (sometimes afternoon, Tony isn't that great at keeping up with the time when he's in his workshop). He tries to converse the first few times, asking after Natasha or Steve's health. But Steve is quiet, and any questions result in a look of pain on his face that Tony isn't proud to be the cause of. So eventually, he stops trying to talk. They settle into a silence that isn't awkward, but isn't comfortable. It's tolerable, though, and that's more than Tony has asked from most of his social contacts over the years, so he's okay with it.

Nothing lasts forever, though, so of course their nonverbal agreement ends during Steve's third week of staying in the Tower. It seems innocent enough, at first. Tony is making himself himself a sandwich when Steve walks into the kitchen. Instead of just getting what he came for, though, Steve stops at the entryway and sighs.

"I thought maybe this time I could fix it," he says. Tony blinks.

"Fix what?" he asks, hand paused over the slices of cheese he was about to add.

"Everything," Steve says. "I've never been around for the end. I've never been the one who makes the difference. I thought--I hoped that maybe this time, I could actually help."

He sounds miserable, and Tony isn't sure what to say. It's absurd, what Steve is saying. He's fucking Captain America, he's the epitome of making a difference. But Steve sounds sincere, like he really believes the shit he's saying.

"You do," Tony finally says.

Steve snorts.

"You said once that the only special parts of me came from a bottle. I didn't want to believe you, and I was really angry that you would even think that, but now? Now I'm pretty sure you were right. And the bottle is feeling a little empty these days."

Tony stares at him. Yeah, he said that, but he was mad, okay? Steve was giving voice to all his worst insecurities, in front of everyone, and the one thing Tony has always been good at is hitting where it hurts. He never thought Steve was actually listening.

"I was lying," he blurts out, unable to deal with an insecure Steve Rogers standing barefoot in his kitchen. It's wrong, and terrifying, and makes Tony doubt everything he's ever believed in.

"What?" Steve looks at him dubiously.

"I was lying. I was jealous, whatever, the important part is that I was wrong. Everything about you is special. The bottle just made sure that everybody who was too stupid to see it before, couldn't ignore it anymore." It's too honest, too real, but Tony's patience is frayed from a month of living alone with a silent Steve. He can't stop his mouth from giving away his most sacred secrets anymore.

Steve just looks confused.

"But I couldn't stop it. Back then, New York, Hydra. It's never enough." He sounds bitter, and Tony feels his heart clench.

"No one ever is," he says. "That's why teams are a thing." He's sure Fury is rolling in his grave at the appearance of Tony Stark, Team Player, but he doesn't care. He has to fix this. Fix Steve.

"But I should be," Steve argues.

"Why?" Tony asks. "Why you? Why not me, with the practically unlimited resources and genius? Why not Banner, with the indestructible alter ego? Or Clint and Natasha, with all their training? Thor and his demigod powers? They put us together for a reason, that reason was because none of us alone were enough. None of us could ever be enough. Not me, not you, not them. No one ever expected you to save the world alone, Steve. No one ever thought you could."

His voice sounds soft at the end, softer than he'd intended. But Steve pauses, seems to listen.

"I did," Steve finally admits. "I expected me to."

Tony laughs, quiet and sad.

"Join the club," he says. "We all eventually disappoint ourselves. That's why we have other people, to remind us that there's a reason to keep going anyway."

Steve tilts his head, looking at Tony like he's new, or different somehow.

"Yeah," he finally says. "I guess you're right."

"I usually am," Tony says, grinning again. Steve just smiles, fondly, and Tony can feel the tension of the past month settle down, ease into something more comfortable, more lasting. He's not sure what it is, but he likes it.


End file.
